On the tropical island of Opon Matan, in the village of Mandawili, an important ceremony was cancelled and the older way of doing things was reintroduced. On that fateful day, the cogs of change began its slow and jarring turn to fulfill the destinies of men, but whether it be to their death or glory, no one will know for sure.
The smell of sweat and betel nut leaf was thick in the air as people from the village and neighboring tribes gathered and crowded around the biggest hut in the center of Mandawili. All were busy, gawking and murmuring at the scene in front of them. Tawny skin touched, brushed and rubbed against each other as every man, woman, and child jostled for a better view of the town hall's occupants. But they were not there to witness the betrothal of Datu Pulaco's daughter, Malaya, to the princeling, Halang. Their curiosity favored something else entirely...
"Shit on you! Shit on all of you!" Halang spat. "I'm the son of Datu Zullah and my father will hear of this! He will!"
Old Banglud almost fell on the bamboo floor as he tried to keep the princeling from doing something regrettable. "Hold your tongue, boy. Let me handle this."
"Let go of me, old man. Let go!" Halang barked.
Old Banglud doubled his efforts to keep Halang from embarrassing himself even more. "Datu Pulaco, this is not our way," he said. "Do you not value a lasting alliance with Datu Zullah? Do you not value and respect Master Humabara's reign as regent?"
Old Banglud didn't like what Pulaco said too but they were outnumbered here. The stranger beside Pulaco with a giant sword didn't help ease his mind either. He turned to their four escorts and gestured towards Halang. "Hold him down, will you?"
The escorts tried their best to subdue the commotion their leader started. They knew the reputation of the villagers of Mandawili. They were only forgiving to a point. But all eyes weren't on them or on their priggish leader, Halang. The villagers were more keen on waiting for the chief's words.
The chief, Salip Pulaco, sat on his chair in the middle of the room like some bronze statue of an ageless demi-god from an ancient forgotten world. But upon closer study, he was clearly like any mortal man. An embroidered red putong wrapped his long black hair in place, matching the maroon tampi that wound around his hip, while the rest of his half-naked body was tattooed with crisscrossing babayin patterns and intricate symbols. His bare skin was also kissed by battle- decorated by countless scars that surprisingly did not marr his image. Instead, it only magnified his legend to those who had an inkling of his past deeds.
The chief shifted and rested his chin on his fist as his obsidian eyes fell upon old man Banglud. The weary orbs spoke about him the most. Beside Pulaco, a shaggy-haired man with an unusually huge sword strapped on his back leaned and whispered something to his ear. Old Banglud paused to gain back some semblance of composure. He did not want to look like the other gawkers. But a thought made his brow rose. Was the stranger beside the datu the rumored waylander that washed up on Pulaco's shore months ago? The man they call Lam-ag Sagpang Baha. What was he doing there beside the famed datu of Mandawili? Was he Pulaco's new executioner? The old man did not like that idea especially, after Halang's crass behavior. The stranger was definitely someone important if he was occupying the Daragangan leader's position. And where was Pulaco's blood-brother? Where was Mingming? He sighed. Who cares.
Old Banglud shifted his attention back to the stranger, trying his best to guess the man's purpose. With the gargantuan sword of his, he could easily be a headhunter. Or perhaps, the stranger was the datu's new champion? He nodded to himself. Maybe Pulaco finally embraced his true nature and the man beside him was his new raiding captain- another discouraging idea that Old Banglud did not want to entertain. Many other questions popped in his head, but one thing was sure, the aged man did not like Lam-ag Sagpang Baha already.
Pulaco shook his head and cleared his throat and everyone paused to listen.
"My word is final... I am merely doing what I think is right. And I do not intend to insult anyone by doing this. My beloved daughter, Malaya, is a grown woman and I will stand by whatever choice she makes. And if she says no... then it shall be."
A couple of gawkers gasped while the others nodded in agreement to their chief's words. Old Banglud's weather-beaten face, on the other hand, turned from brown to pale white. He shook his head. "Right choice!? Pu-la-co are you begging for a war?" He sighed as though he was explaining something so simple to an unruly child. "Master Humabara will not like this. Think this through Salip. Please, I implore you."
Pulaco shifted his eyes on the wooden kalasag above the lintel as he heard the word war, making the golden chains of his earrings dance. The shield was notched and gouged from the countless battles it had gone through. Its white paint flaked and some bits of it slowly peeled away. While the red bird of prey, the minokawa, painted on its center was slowly fading back to its white background. It didn't lessen the craftsmanship behind it though. The shield may not be as pristine as it once was but it could still do its job, Pulaco thought.
When Salip Pulaco first received it from his father, Amang Kugano, back in the old kingdom in Kalimantan it became one of his most valuable possessions. And even to this day, he held it close to his heart. After all, it was the shield that won all of his battles. But a lot of things have changed since then. He gave a sad smile as an old memory greeted him. It was also the shield who failed to protect his wife.
"No, there shall be no war between me and my kinsmen or with the other chiefs," Pulaco said. "I will not fight the men who stood with me against the Moor invaders and their Magalos warriors. But I will also not give my daughter away like some porcelain dish from the Middle Kingdom. Zullah and Humabara will see the wisdom in my actions and they will accept this. I know they will. I pray to Kaptan, Abba and all the anitos that they see my reason."
"No, you better pray for your lives instead!" Halang cried, his face red in anger. "I'll bring war down to your village. I'll burn you all back to the mud. You'll bow down to me and my father as it should be. I'll see to it, myself. You'll regret this!"
"Shall I silence the fool for you, Salip?" the long-haired Lam-ag Sagpang Baha whispered to Pulaco, his hand on the hilt of his unusual blade. But before his chief could answer Humabara's emmisary spoke first.
"Madness!" Old Banglud shook his head in dismay. "Halang came here to ask for your daughter's hand to strengthen and fix your relationship with Datu Zullah. And what do you do? You reject him and with it you throw away our customs. The things that make us who we are." He stabbed the air with his wooden cane, his neck veins bulging. "I came here in behalf of my master, Rajah Humabara, to forge this long-awaited strengthening of your alliance. This is for the welfare of everyone in the land and more importantly of the city-state of Zubu. And you insult his authority by your incomprehensible choices! You can't even give a reasonable explanation. This is outrageous! My master and the others in the council of datu will hear of this!" He turned and dragged Halang out of the hut and their armed escorts followed them.
They plowed through the crowd like a rampaging herd of water buffalos, dispersing the people and leaving behind a scant number of Pulaco's trusted men and loyal warrior serfs. And after awhile, they too left. But not without expressing there thoughts about the disrespectful princeling and his escorts. They new all to well that things would've been different if Mingming, Pulaco's brother-in-law, and his loyal Daragangan were present. Those visitors would've left with their heads bowed down. Or they would've left without them.
***
Everything was as silent as the grave for a while. But somehow it brought a much needed degree of clarity for Pulaco as he contemplated his decisions. He knew quite well how great a scope his choices would cover. Good or bad, his people would feel it soon enough. But he knew too that things would easily be mended when passion was put to the side and wisdom was placed in the forefront. He hoped that those who disagreed with him would see it.
He was getting accustomed to the tranquility when it was disrupted by a rogue gust of wind. It blew out of nowhere and like some omen from the anitos, the shield in the lintel fell with a bang and settled at the base of the door, as though tempting people to pick it up and used it again.
Not the sign Pulaco hoped for from the ancestors.
From the adjacent room a young woman came out and ran towards Pulaco. Malaya embraced him as tears streamed down her small bright face. She was no longer the lithe little rascal that amused Pulaco and his late wife, Angga. She was now a woman. A mother.
"Oh, father! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Pulaco placed his hand on Malaya's head and buried her face on his chest. "No, child. This isn't your fault."
Malaya shook her head. "But I heard what that ancient fool said."
"Hah, you know Banglud. He'll say anything just to follow his master's orders. He'll even resort to scaring people with his lies. You should never be afraid especially when you are right." The datu embraced his daughter tightly. And even if you're wrong, I will be there for you, Pulaco thought.
"But your alliance-"
"Zullah will be wise enough to recognize what I did. He'll rein his son if he knows what's best for him. When all is said and done, family should come first. It just has to."
Malaya placed her hand on her malong-covered belly. "I have disgraced this house father and now I'll bring us to ruin, all because of my foolishness. But I don't love Halang. I will never love him." She turned her eyes to the waylander.
"Shush," Pulaco said. "I know Lam-ag as an honorable man and if Angga was still alive today she'd approve." Pulaco nodded towards the long-haired man with the oversized barong blade. "He will be a good husband and a kind father to your child. Far better than any rajah or datu, far better than Halang."
Lam-ag kneeled and placed his giant sword on Pulaco's feet. "Thank you, Pulaco. You honor me with your words. I've never felt like I was a stranger in your tribe. You have made sure of that. The moment my feet touched your land, you have been a friend. And for a man lost like I am- kinless and poor, that is the greatest gift. The treasures of all of Vijayas will never match my gratitude for all you have given. My heart will always be on Malaya's hands and my blade will forever be yours to command."
Pulaco nodded. "Stand up, Lam. You don't have to do that."
Lam stood up, eyes still closed. He could not believe the honor that Pulaco gave him freely. He was an outsider, a stranger from a strange land and yet a putli, a pureblooded-noble would treat him this way. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Salip Pulaco."
Pulaco nodded again and turned his attention to Malaya. He smiled,
as he gently held Malaya's chin up.
"Child, I already had an inkling about this change when Lam first washed up on our shores. The devatas, our gods and our anitos sent him to foreshadow far greater change than you and I could imagine. Today is just a taste of it. I feel it in the deepest marrows of my being."
Malaya wiped her tears away. "What will we do next, father?"
"What else is there to do?" He smiled. "But prepare for your wedding with Lam."
Malaya cried again, this time overjoyed by his father's words. But she still had doubts about the choice they made. About the choice she made. Pulaco noticed it in her eyes.
"Do not burden yourself, child," he said. "Speak and let your worries fade with every word you utter..."
Malaya hesitated. "Oh, father! What if Halang made his words true? What if the oaf bring war upon us?"
"If he brings war to your doorstep, I will welcome him in with swords and spears in hand," Lam said, placing a hand on Malaya's shoulder. "And I'll never back down nor kneel to anyone, especially to the likes of that insolent fop." He eyed Pulaco.
Pulaco wiped the tears off her daughter's eyes. "Halang speaks of war like it's some trivial thing. I don't seek war. No one should. It's messy and worthless, good people die in wars and only the evil profit from it. I'd rather have peace and friendship between us all."
Malaya embraced her father tighter. She knew how the fates played their game. She knew it when her mother died. But right that moment, her father's presence made everything seemed easier. She felt protected, like being in a sanctuary at the midst of a tempest. She was going to be okay, she convinced herself. She breath out a heavy sigh. Things will be alright. But the moment between Malaya and Pulaco was abruptly cut short when Mingming entered the hut, panting. He raised his hand while he tried to catch his breath.
"Brother, where have you been?" the bald warrior said. "I have something to tell you." His bamboo spear clattered on the floor as he approached the chieftain.
Pulaco smiled. "Good morning, Ming. I have a wonderful news for you too."
Mingming wiped the sweat off his face with his brawny forearm. "I think I should go first."
Pulaco walked towards the warrior, smile slowly fading away. Mingming met him halfway and whispered the news in his ear. "Trespassers?" Pulaco said, a note of concern in his voice.
"Are you sure?"
Mingming's tattooed forehead glistened with sweat as he nodded. "Their ship is anchored three leagues from our shore."
"Ah. Then, sound the conk horns and prepare the balangays!" Pulaco said and Mingming repeated his orders to the Daragangan warriors outside. He then marched off to fulfill his datu's orders.
As he did so, Salip Pulaco, the chief of Mandawili turned back to his soon-to-be son-in-law with inscrutable eyes. "Lam, did you say Rooster's claw is at my command?"
Lam nodded to Pulaco, sheathing his oversized barong blade on his back in one smooth motion. "Always, Salip."
"Then, let's go and welcome some of our visitors."